Maybe It's a Mixture of Both
by RabbittyBabbitty
Summary: "I hate tonight, I hate this town, I want to drive off and never look back." Rated T for swearing. Oneshot.


**Hello glorious citizens of where-ever you're from. I finally got around to writing a one-shot that I've been thinking about for awhile...Well it's actually a mixture of two idea's I've been having. So yeah. Near the end you might see a reference to the song, 'Josie' by blink-182. That was one of my idea's (a song-fic based off that song) but when I opened up Word Processor this kinda came out. **

**Enough of my useless ramblings, enjoy.**

**Oh! Special props to iLuvNathanKrEsS who Beta'd this for me. Thank you so much C: **

**Disclaimer-I own nothing. **

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**Freddie's POV**

"Freddie, are you still up?" My mother was at my doorway with her arms crossed. I pretend I can't hear her over the imaginary music that's coming through my headphones. A minute passes and I'm still not responding to her. I hear the soft noise of her slippers gliding along the floor towards me and before long I'm feeling her long fingers wrap around my shoulder.

"Freddie, did you not hear me?" Her exasperated tone made me pause for a moment and I mentally began preparing myself for one of her long lectures as I took in a deep breath, "I was asking you why you were still up." Her attitude was hard and demanding. Without hesitation, I took out my headphones and looked up at her with an impatient expression. Annoyance written all over my face**. **She cringed at this.

"I'm editing for iCarly, Mom. So if you don't mind leaving me to do what I need to do**-**" I don't know why I did it, or how, but my arm seemed to stretch out on a will of it's own and shoved her back a couple steps; I still don't know how hard I actually did push her.

She ignored it though, "Fredward Benson, _how_ many times have I told you about staying up past nine? And it's nearly _one o'clock__**.**_**" **I rolled my eyes, trying to take my attention off her, but instead I just ended up starring at the scowl on her face, the way her eyes frowned making her look older than she actually was. It amazes me how she can go from zero to fifty in the anger department in a matter of seconds. One minute she's acting calm, the next she's screaming.

"Mom, I'm in the middle of editing-"

"Freddie, you go to bed right this instant!" My mom walked over to my lamp and flicked off the light.

"Mom. I need to do this, this is really important." I was trying to keep my cool, the last thing I wanted was to get into a fight with my mom over something this stupid. Besides, there is no way to reason with her.

"Don't you take that tone with me, young man." About this time is when I realized that no matter how I decided to handle this, it would end up in a fight.

"I'm not taking a tone. I'm just simply stating that I need to get work do-"

"_Freddie Benson, you go to sleep right now or I will take that computer away from you." _

To be perfectly honest, I can't tell you what happened after that, like a really bad hangover, my memory was distorted and all I remember is storming out of my apartment, slamming the door behind me and taking the stairs down to my crappy SUV after what seemed to be hours of screaming. And here I am, pissed off beyond all belief and in my pajamas.

_Great._

I got into my car and started my engine, thinking that maybe a drive will get my mind off everything. I mean, it always works in the movies, doesn't it?

_"It's her isn't it? I know it is. Ever since you started dating her you've changed. It's all her fault-"_

I grit my teeth as I press my barefoot harder against the gas pedal-wait. I'm barefoot while driving, isn't that illegal? I should've brought some shoes or something. I mean, it's suspicious enough that I'm a teenager driving around in the middle of the night. If I get pulled over and the cop sees I'm shoe-less, I'm screwed...Damn it, here I go again, thinking about all the things my mom would normally want me to think about. The past years of her trying to teach my mind between good and bad truly worked. And I'm sick of it, I know I only have a few more months of school and of living with her left, but I don't think I can take it. Especially not after the fight I got in with her tonight, which added to the list of others we shared in the past couple weeks. It was overwhelming.

_"Don't try and peg this on her, you've tried that once, remember? It didn't turn out so well for you before and it won't now. What's happening right now is between you and me, it's about you refusing to let me grow up."_

Tonight I want to drive around Seattle, down every corner, through every neighborhood and across every avenue. Forget Seattle. I want to see _Washington_. I want to see everything that it has to offer. I want to see those giant tree's everyone talks about, I want to see the ocean, which I rarely ever do, I want to do everything my mom would tell me _not_ to do.

_"It must be her, you never acted like this before you and her got together-" "Yeah, because she made me realize that I need to become who I need to be, and you keep on trying to stop that."_

As most people know, things with my mom have always been a bit odd, (such word clearly being an understatement.) But ever since I started my Senior year things have gone straight downhill. By this time next year I'll be in my dorm room in Seattle Tech, and she knows it, so she's been smothering me more than ever before. I guess tonight, I just snapped. I may try hard to be the perfect son for her, but there's only so much I can handle.

_"Sometimes you remind me of your father-"_

I hit the back of my hand against my radio power button and try to keep my breathing steady. I honestly don't think I've ever been this mad, and if you've been with Sam as long as I have, that's saying something. I must've been subconsciously pressing on the gas pedal because by the time I looked back at my speedometer, I was going seventy in a thirty mile zone. I check the bright green numbers above my radio, they keep flashing 2:30. I feel the chills creep up my spine, it's the middle of a Winter night and I'm driving in a shitty car that has a heater that is just about as affective as my old PearPhone Sam chucked into the pool. I can't stop thinking, I can't focus on anything but the thoughts that are rushing through my head.

I hate tonight, I hate this town, I want to drive off and never look back.

_"He used to claim that she was making him a better man, but we all know what she was doing. She was telling him to leave us, and that's all she's doing to you."_

I feel my car vibrate under the dirt rode I just steered it onto and I decide to slow down. Any more damage and I'll be looking for a new car. I turn the radio up a bit more so I can feel the bass in my stomach. I take a second to look around at the road I'm driving on, it must be out of habit, but I notice I'm driving right by Sam's house. I know for a fact she's at her house tonight, but the chances of her actually being awake are zero-to-none, she soaks up every chance of sleep she can get.

Against my reasoning, I park next to her mailbox, or at least where her mailbox would be if her Mom hadn't backed over it with her car. I rub my hand across my chin and I'm wondering if this is a good idea. But I shake that thought away; I don't care anymore.

I just want to check to see if she's awake. I slowly walk onto the cold, wet grass. Dew and bare-feet at 3 AM never make a good combination. When I think about my mom and how mad she would be to know my feet were covered in thousands of different bacteria and in such bad condition, I actually find myself stepping even harder into the grass, _even_ adding a little dance in there.

I take in a breathe of cold air as I continue to slowly sneak up near Sam's window. Times like these makes me glad that Sam lives in a one-story house, but it's also times like these that make me feel like the world's biggest pervert.

I crawl on all fours, and silently curse myself for forgetting about the freezing-wet grass. I slowly raise myself up to look into her window as my pajama bottoms get soaking wet.

To my utter amazement, she's still awake, she's on her bed watching TV with Frothy curled up next to her. I have a sudden urge to burst through her door and tell her everything that happened, but at the same time I'm not an idiot and I know that I'd be laughed at for doing so. I reach for my cell phone, I better text her that I'm by her house to see what she says. Right as I reach towards my back pocket, I realize that I'm in pajamas. And last time I checked, pajama's don't have pockets and that my phone is on my bed in my apartment.

Fuck.

Well, I could always _try _the front door, right? I mean, the worst scenario is her mom opening the door naked**. **No joke. When in the Pucketts residence, nothing should be unexpected. Or I could just go back in my car and drive around Washington like I originally planned, but the thought of moving all the way back to my car and driving is a task that I don't want to do. The feeling of overwhelming fatigue is taking over, the lawn is beginning to feel as soft as a bed. A thought enters my mind, and it's crazy and stupid. But tonight, I want to do something crazy, something my mom would tell me not to do. So I open her window.

In my head I planned on doing a ninja somersault into her room, her shouting out in joy and running into my arms. In reality, I got stuck half-way through the window, I fell on my head, something soft and rabid started attacking me, which I later concluded would be Frothy, and Sam started hitting me with her remote_- hard_. After a few painful minutes that involved a remote-beating, multiple cat-scratches and multiple curse words uttering out of my mouth, Sam spoke.

"What the hell are you doing here, Benson?" Once Sam realized that it was me and not an intruder, she dropped the remote and helped me up.

"I, uh, got in a fight with my mom..." I rubbed the back of my neck, it just hit me how stupid I sound. I looked around and noticed a familiar scene from _National Lampoon's Vacation _playing on her television.

"No way!" Sam's face lit-up with excitement snapping my attention back to her, "It's about time you put Crazy in her place! Tell me what happened! Did she cry? Oh please tell me she cried!" I smiled.

Here I am and it's 3:00 AM. I've snuck into my girlfriends room, got mauled by her vicious cat, got beaten by said girlfriend with a remote, she openly insulted my mother in front of me, and I'm smiling. Maybe it's because her hatred of my mom is just what I need right now, or maybe it's just her presence that is making everything better.

Maybe it's a mixture of both.

**Feel free to flame me, compliment me, whatever you choose to do. A review is a review right? **_**Right?**_


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